Hit the Marc
by Jackal Antern XIII
Summary: How would you react, if one day, you found out that you were a wizard? you'd freak out right? or, maybe not. i mean, you could be like me. my name is Marc, and this is my story.
1. Hit the Marc

"Marc, Marc wake up! It's your birthday." Said an auburn haired woman as she opened her son's door. Looking to her son's bed, she could just see his dark hair, almost coal-black, peeking out from behind his covers. "I'm making pancakes." She said as she turned toward the stairs. Just after she could no longer see into the room, she heard a flurry of movement.

_It's so easy to get him out of bed like this. Maybe I should make pancakes more often_.

Moments later, Marc rushed past her in her way downstairs.

"There are some already on the table. Help yourself." She shouted after him as he tore around the corner.

"Thanks Mom!"

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"Man Marc, how can you eat so many pancakes? You ate like twelve." Said Marc's older sister Anne.

"Thirteen, sis. I ate thirteen."Corrected Marc.

"Still Marc, how can you eat that much and not get fat." Said Anne.

"I don't know. Maybe I really am a bottomless pit." Suggested a shrugging Marc.

As their mother came over to begin cleaning up the table, she spotted something out on the back porch.

"Marc, look at that owl on the porch." Shouted Anne.

"What owl . . . oh, that owl. Hey, is it holding a letter?" said Marc as he got out of his chair. Walking over to the door, he watched as the owl followed his movement. "I'm going to see if I can get that letter." Said Marc as he steeped through the now open door.

"Just be careful Marc." Cautioned his mother.

As Marc approached the nocturnal avian, he was slightly surprised that it didn't fly away. Reaching the bird, Marc calmly reached for the letter and grabbed it. The owl released the letter almost as if it had been trained to do so. Backing up slightly, Marc looked down at the letter. It was made of a heavy yellowish parchment and sealed with a strange coat of arms: a lion, badger, raven, and snake on a quartered shield, and in the center was an H.

"Weird." Marc muttered under his breath. Flipping the letter over, he looked at the address:

_Marc Z. Vitrac_

_north-side bedroom_

_1313 Lunar Court_

_Ipswich_

"OKAY, weird." Said Marc. Looking up, he saw that the owl had left. Turning, he walked back inside, all the while looking at the letter. "Hey mom, it's a letter for me."Said Marc as he closed the door behind him.

"Oh really. Then I guess that was a messenger owl." She said, trying to be sarcastic, and failing.

"Yeah, it was." Said Marc as he sat back at the table and opened the letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL _

_of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Vitrac_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall, _

_Deputy Headmistress_

Having finished the letter, Marc looked up at his mother, who had been reading the letter over his shoulder.

"Mom?" said Marc, slightly weirded out.

"Um, well. Marc, it looks like magic is real then. Either that or there is some loon out there who is training owls to carry messages about some made up school." She said quietly.

"Mom, if it is real, I would like to go. Can I? Please?" pleaded Marc.

"If it is real, and not some hoax, then you can go." She allowed.

Pumping his fist in the air, Marc dumped the remaining contents of the envelope. A list of school supplies, a ticket, and a blank sheet of parchment, obviously meant for the reply letter. Grabbing a pen from his pocket, he began to write out his reply.

_Dear Ms. McGonagall_

_I am happy to tell you that I accept your offer. My mother on the other hand, request evidence for the existence of magic before she will allow me to attend. I also have a few questions. How am I to get my school things as I doubt that I can get magic textbooks in the non-magical world? Are we required to pay for tuition? If so, how? And finally, how long will the school year be?_

_Thank you in advance._

_Marc Vitrac._

_P.s. please address me as Marc. I don't answer to anything else._

Having finished, Marc handed the letter to his mother. She, after reading, added her signature.

"Now, how are we to return the letter?" she asked.

"I think we are supposed to send it by owl." Said Marc as he surveyed the back porch for the owl. As he was just about to give up, the owl alighted on the railing. Rushing out, Marc gave the owl his reply letter. Upon receiving the letter, the owl took off to the northwest.

Walking back inside, Marc couldn't help but ask "so, what now?"

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*knock, knock*

"I'll get it." Shouted Marc as he ran to the front door. Opening the door, he was startled slightly at seeing a man of diminutive stature.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Vitrac. I am Professor Fillius Flitwick. I was told that your mother requested proof of magic." Said Flitwick.

"Yeah, she did. And please, call me Marc." The boy replied. "Come in, I'll show you to her." Marc said as he lead the diminutive man toward the living room. "Mom, the proof is here."

"Oh, so what did they send?" asked his mother.

"They sent a munchkin." Said Marc, trying to get that 'you-gotta-be-shitting-me' look out of his mother, and succeeding.

"Marc, don't joke like that. You do remember the boy who cried wolf, don't you?" she replied, nearly to the shaking-a-finger-in-your-face stage.

"Well, I have never been called a munchkin before." Said the professor from behind Marc, having been able to hide behind him completely. Upon hearing Flitwick and his squeaky voice, Marc's mother jumped.

"May I present professor Flitwick the Munchkin, and long time member of the lollipop guild." Said Marc as he stepped aside to reveal the mun. . . I mean the professor.

"There is a lollipop guild? Oh the headmaster would love to get in contact with them. He has a sweet-tooth larger than I am." Said Flitwick.

_Wouldn't be hard, our cat is practically bigger than you are._ Thought Marc.

"So, what do you have that will convince me of the existence of magic." Said Marc's mother.

"Hmm, how about some transfiguration or better yet, do you have something that needs to be fixed or repaired?" suggested the midget.

"Well, not really. But you said something about transfiguration. Could you transfigure me a cup of tea?" she asked.

Not even bothering to reply, Flitwick conjured a tea service complete with biscuits.

"Professor, now that the proof is out of the way. How and where am I to get my school things?" asked Marc.

"Right to business I see Marc. Yes, we'll be going to Diagon Alley." Said munchkin-man.

"Where is Diagon Alley, if you don't mind my asking?" questioned Mrs. Vitrac.

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CRACK

"Okay, that felt weird," said Marc as he came back into existence, "cool, but weird."

"Come Marc. We need to get going. Before we visit any shops, we need to convert your money into galleons, wizarding money." Said Flitwick as he scurried off down the street. Walking after the man, Marc was doing a bit of sightseeing. Everyone seemed to be color-blind, combining clashing colors in their weird, overabundant robes. Shaking his head, Marc continues to follow Flitwick to a large, crooked, marble building. Guessing this must be a bank, Marc continues inside.

"Professor, I take it those beings are goblins or something similar." Said Marc gesturing to the armored humanoids guarding the door.

"Yes, they are. Why do you ask?" said Mr. Midget.

"I didn't ask. That was just an observation. Though I would guess that people don't trust them easily, or at all." Commented Marc after seeing the expressions on the faces of some of those around them.

"Yes, unfortunately the human inhabitants of magical Europe are quite prejudiced against non or half-humans." Said Flitwick, sighing.

"Professor, do you have some nonhuman ancestry that contributes to your size?" asked Marc.

"Not that I have been able to find. Though I hear that in the muggle world there are some who are my size naturally" he replied.

"Yes, though I know little about what causes it, I have heard that it is a specific code in the genes." Commented Marc. "I have always been curious about that which I do not understand."

"So you have a thirst for knowledge, seems like you would fit into my own house." commented Flitwick.

"House, sir?" asked Marc.

"The school is sorted into four houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and finally Slytherin. Each house prizes one characteristic above others. For Gryffindor it is bravery, Hufflepuff has loyalty, Ravenclaw prizes knowledge, and Slytherin cunning. Each house has a professor acting as head. For Gryffindor it is Professor McGonagall, transfiguration teacher and Deputy-Headmistress, for Hufflepuff there is Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, I am the Charms teacher and head of Ravenclaw, and Slytherin has Professor Snape, the potions teacher. A tip for school, Professor Snape favors his house so I would suggest you read the potions text beforehand." Informed Flitwick "ah, finally, here we are Marc."

"What is it that you want?" asked an irritable Goblin.

"We would like to exchange pounds for Galleons." Supplied Flitwick.

"Excuse me, could you check for any wizarding blood in my ancestry. You never know who you are the heir to." Joked Marc.

"Certainly, Marc. That is an excellent idea. If you would please arrange it Mr. Redmaw." Flitwick asked the Goblin.

"As you wish" replied Redmaw, " Tornclaw!" called the teller. As the goblin Tornclaw approached, Redmaw continued, "If you would please escort them to the ancestry chamber."

"Follow me." Said Tornclaw, walking off towards a door in the back of the lobby. After walking for a few minutes, Tornclaw opened a door and motioned for them to enter. "So, what is it you wanted to check about your ancestry?" he asked.

"I would like to know where my magical blood came from, and if there is some magical blood in my ancestry, to find out if I inherit anything from them." Answered Marc.

"Alright, then if you will allow me to draw some blood." said Tornclaw gesturing to a basin near the back wall. Beside the basin was a small dagger, picking up the dagger, Tornclaw gestured for Marc to give his hand. Grabbing Marc's hand Tornclaw cuts Marc's palm, letting the blood drip into the basin. After letting the blood flow for a moment, Tornclaw sealed up the cut with a touch of magic. "Now we wait a moment for your family tree to appear on the wall." supplied Tornclaw. Seconds later a tree started to grow from behind the basin. On the trunk was Marc's name, on the two forked branches were the names of his parents, and so on for generations. On closer inspection, Marc's name was silver while his parent's and grandparent's were black, there was also a silver line traveling up from his name through his mother, grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather, etc. high up the tree, twelve generations or so, the silver line split, continuing to go up and up. Finally, after a good twenty minutes and a good eighty generations, there was another silver name, Mathurin Kerbouchard, and another, Baldriac Kerbouchard, and another Kerbouchard, this went on for a good twenty generations when there was a golden name and then back to silver. On the other silver line there had yet to be a silver name.

"We are only able to track up a family tree two-hundred generations, so it won't be long until we won't be able to track that magical line, but it appears you are of an old Druidic line." commented Tornclaw, "I think we have their vault, but I don't believe that there will be much gold in that vault. Perhaps a few artifacts or family heirlooms."

As he was finishing speaking, the other magical line had a single white name, paired with a single silver, before it stopped tracking completely. Upon seeing the name, Tornclaw let out a bark like laugh.

"Now that one was unexpected. I can believe that you are a descendant of the Kerbouchard Druidic line, but that family, hah." Tornclaw continued to chuckle and laugh for a minute or two. The name in white was 'Signe,' the silver name paired to it was 'Reynard Odinson.'

"Excuse me, Tornclaw, what does the name being gold or white mean?" asked Marc, and it seemed that Professor Flitwick was also curious.

"Well, the golden name merely states that they were of great power, but the white name, that is because she was not human." here Tornclaw chuckled again, "she was Fae." with that Tornclaw walked out the door, motioning for them to follow him. "Now, lucky for you these two vaults do not require a key, but for the heir to be recognized. For the Kerbouchard vault, if you are the heir, the vault will open, if you are of their line, but not the heir, you will get a slight shock. If you were in no way related to their line and tried to gain access you would receive a quite large and possibly fatal shock." Tornclaw said, continuing to chuckle, "lucky for you that both vaults are some of our deepest." he said as he grabbed a lantern and hopped into a cart.

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After a thrilling and chaotic cart ride, the three got off of the cart.

"Alright, here we are at the Kerbouchard vault. Just place your hand on that silver plate and we will know." said Tornclaw pointing to the vault door, where there was a silver plate embossed with the Kerbouchard Coat-of-Arms, a staff and claymore crossed over an ivy-covered oak. Placing his hand on th plate, Marc felt a strange energy running through him, filling him, judging him. After a moment, he felt the feeling recede.

"Well, I'll be damned." said Tornclaw as the Coat flashed a brief white light, "looks like it accepts you kid."

"Looks like it." said Marc as the door slid to the side revealing a room filled with a medium-large pile of gold, many shelves of books, a few racks of weapons, some clothing and armor, and in a corner there looked to be a mini-zoo. "Um, what is with the animals?"

"It looks like they are in some kind of stasis charm." commented Flitwick.

"Stasis charm?" asked Marc.

"It basically makes it so that the animals are in a state of suspended animation. They do not age, they do not need to eat, sleep, drink, or anything. Though they are not conscious nor do they move." summarized Flitwick. As he followed Marc through the vault. After looking at the books some he said, "Amazing, it appears as if the last of the line copied his entire druidic knowledge into books."

"Didn't the Druids do everything by memory, never writing it down?" asked Marc.

"Yes, though it appears that the last druid of the line saw that his child had no magic and decided to preserve his knowledge until magic reappeared in his line. Marc, I would love to read some of these, if you would allow it. As they are written in an old form of Gaelic I would gladly teach you to read them yourself in return." suggested Flitwick. "I would also suggest that you take Ancient Runes in your third year, and probably Arithmancy also."

"Alright, sounds good. Let's check out my little menagerie." Marc said gesturing toward the animals in the corner. As they approached, they saw that off to the side there were quite a few eggs of various natures and sizes. "I wish I had a list of the contents." said Marc to himself, though Tornclaw seemed to have heard him.

"I can have that brought to you once we get back to the ground floor, but first I suggest that we check your other possible vault." offered Tornclaw, " lucky for you it isn't too far away."

"Um, before we leave, I think we should grab some gold."suggested Marc, "I mean, if there isn't any in the other vault, we would have to return to this vault to withdraw some, and that would take unnecessary time."

"Smart thinking Marc." commented Flitwick, "Here, I brought a pouch to store the Galleons we were going to exchange for. Though it seems that it won't be needed.."

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After a short uneventful trip to the next vault, Marc was astonished to see a blank wall where they stopped.

"I never did understand this vault. It allows the heir to pass through the door, though if you aren't the heir, it just turns you around and sends you right back out." said Tornclaw shaking his head. "Nowhere near vicious enough." he stated.

"Well, here goes." said Marc as he stepped toward the wall. As his hand passed through the door, he felt a similar energy as when he was being judged by the other vault. Gathering up his courage, Marc shut his eyes and stepped forward. Opening his eyes he found himself in a medium sized room with a portrait, on the opposite wall, and two doors, one on each wall facing each other. In portrait was a woman. Quite a beautiful woman at that, her skin was a dark bronze, a darker shade of his own skin, her hair was long and black, her face dimly reminded himself of himself, and she also had his same slate-blue eyes. She was clothed in a faded coral dress that hung loosely from her shoulders and was held tight to her waist by a wide, beaten gold belt. Despite her aristocratic appearance, she held herself like a predator, confident, sure of herself, every movement was economical, the least amount of effort for the distance moved. _Wait, movement?_

"Hello, child." said th woman, smiling slightly, "I have waited a long time for one of my blood."

Marc just stood there, staring at her. After a moment a look of understanding crossed his face. "Magic, that's why the painting moves and talks." he mumbled to himself.

"You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity" said the woman, a full grin on her face.

"If that is so, then I have been insane for years, because I have been talking to myself since I was able to talk." remarked Marc(no pun intended), "so you are Signe? How come Reynald isn't here too?"

"We never could get him to sit still long enough for anyone to paint his portrait.." she supplied, "though it would have been a bit more bearable with him here to talk to."

"Sorry, If I had known you were here I would have gotten here earlier." said Marc, "I only just recently came to know about the magical world."

"Don't worry child, I cannot and do not blame you." she said, "time is short child and we need to talk of your heritage."

"You mean my Fae blood, your blood." he answered.

"Yes. We, unlike most other fae species, have gone dormant. That is to say that our heritage is dormant in the veins of our descendants." she said.

"So is there a way to awaken it, your blood?" asked Marc.

"Yes, though it will take time." said Signe, "in the room to your right, the ritual room, you will find a potion, white in color. Go and take it." she instructed.

"Walking over to and through said door, Marc came to a mostly bare room. The only things in the room was a set of shelves filled with potions and what looked like a transmutation circle he had seen in that manga. Walking over to the shelves, Marc began searching for the correct potion. It didn't take long as there was a small group of white potions in the middle of one of the shelves. Grabbing one he returned to the main room.

"Is this it?" asked Marc, holding up the vial.

"It is. But first let me tell you of my kind." said Signe, "we were shape-shifters. Able to take any form perfectly, be it human, fae, beast, object, or energy. Not only that, but we were ageless. We would not die except by outside means. The only way we would die would be disease, poison, or weapon." here she paused, "child, our species often operated like a pack. Especially in that the male would take multiple mates. When you begin to reach maturity, you will begin to search out a mate, or several." upon hearing that little tidbit of information, Marc stood there, thinking over what he had learned. We will omit that his mouth was hanging open, that he was drooling slightly, and that he had a dumbfounded expression on his face.

Quickly shaking his head to clear his head, "I will probably have to watch out for who I choose as a mate." he mused aloud, "to make sure that I chose the right people as mates, and to make sure they aren't after my abilities, my heritage. Or my possessions for that matter." he finished.

"That would be wise." Signe said sarcastically.

"So what do I do with the potion?" asked Marc.

"Every day for the next year, put one drop of your blood into the potion. At the end of the year return here to the ritual room and drink it." Signe instructed.

"What should I do if I am unconscious for a few days?" he asked.

"The best solution would be for someone to take a drop of your blood every day and use that. The next best solution is for you to have the friend do the same from a vial of your blood set aside for this purpose.." Signe informed him, "if you cannot get someone to help you, then for the following days after you wake, use two drops instead of one until you are caught up."

"Well, I think that is covered." said Marc, "anything else you want to discuss?"

"Yes, in the room to your left, which is more like the actual vault, you should find many staves meant for the casting of greater magics, find one that fits your magic and take it. Also, there is a ring in there, I want you to bring it out here." she instructed.

"Right." said Marc as he started toward the door.

As he entered the vault he was awestruck. The amount of things in the room was astounding. Not only that, but there was something from nearly every age starting about a millennia ago. One side of the room was devoted to the tools of war, swords, bows, axes, maces, and various forms of armor. Marc guessed that the staves would be in that section. Another portion of the room looked to have been turned into a library of monstrous proportions. Marc even thought he saw some scrolls on one of the two story high shelves. In the back was a menagerie similar to what was in the Kerbouchard vault, if only larger and of greater variety. Over in another portion of the room was a sort of display of family heirlooms. There were many forms of jewelry, from rings and necklaces to strange armbands and diadems. In the last corner of the room was a mini-mountain of gold.

"Well, on to the staves." Marc said to noone in particular.

As he walked through the stands of armor, a set of bracers and grieves caught his eye. They were not anywhere near his size, but he got te feeling that it didn't matter. Taking one of the bracers he placed it on his forearm. As he started to buckle it on, it began to reform to the size of his arm. "Cool" said Marc aloud. Looking over to te others in the set, he saw that they were not his size. Quickly putting the rest of them on he continued to where he had seen the staves. Reaching them, he began to run his fingers along the staves. Every now and then he would feel a weak pull, but the feeling still didn't feel right. As he was about two-thirds of the way through the staves, as his fingers struck a stave, the pulling feeling multiplied a hundred-fold. His hand seemed to subconsciously wrap themselves around the shaft. Lifting it out of the rack, the stave seemed to begin giving of a faint light. As Marc continued to hold it, the light continued to get brighter until in an explosion of light the runes that were lightly engraved down the length of the stave seemed to radiate a myriad of lights. As the light subsided, Marc just stared at the stave. It was made of a dark wood, not quite black with a slight red tint to it. About the top several centimeters the runes seemed to be made of various gemstones. They were thirteen in number.

As the sense of awe began to recede, Marc started off to the heirloom portion of the room. In the relative center of the section there was a pedestal with a single ring on it. Grabbing the ring he returned to the main hall.

"Got them." said Marc.

"Good, and I see that you grabbed something else too." said Signe with a slight smile. As Marc heard that he ducked his head slightly. "Oh, don't be ashamed, those things should be put to good use. Now, about the ring." said Signe, her tone going serious, "it will help you to locate those who have a heritage like yours. Though it will only lead you to those that have magic." she finished.

"So, if I wear it, it will lead me to others whose blood is dormant." said Marc, "what was your kind called anyway?"

"We didn't really have a name, they just assumed that we were of the race whose appearance we took."

"Alright, so that is it?" he asked, "oh, and what is with the animals in the vault?"

"Yes, that is all." answered the woman, "the animals are there for two is for you to learn to change into those species to give you some experience. The other is that Reynald always liked to have animal companions around, no matter hor dangerous they were supposed to be." said signe, "that reminds me, our race was gifter with Beast-speak, meaning we could talk with any being, it also gives us a head start when learning foreign human languages." she commented.

"Well, that should help when I go to read most of those books, as I am sure that they are in a different language." said Marc.

"Yes, I guess it would. I will see you in a year." said Signe, sounding slightly dissapointed.

"Goodbye, I wish I could help with the boredom problem, but I have no idea." said Marc as he started to leave.

As he stepped back through the wall, he nearly walked straight into Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be studying the wall.

"Hello Marc. I expected you to be in there longer than a minute. Though it seems you did much in that short amount of time." said Flitwick.

"It seemed more like ten minutes. I had almost worried that you two might have decided to leave." said Marc.

"No, I would have been much too curious to leave." said Flitwick as he seemed to bounce around.

"I would have been punished harshly had I done that." said Tornclaw from the side. "Well, are we done here?" asked the goblin.

"Yes, yes, I think our business is finished down here." said Flitwick happily.


	2. Marked for greatness

"I have a question about my book list." said a boy to the tiny man beside him, "who is this Gilderoy Lockheart guy, and is the professor who assigned his books a fan or something?"

"Well, Lockheart is reputed to be a famous dark creature hunter, or something of the sort." said the midget, "as to what the new Defense Professor thinks of him, I am quite sure that there is a bit of infatuation there."

"So is the new Professor a woman?" asked the boy, who had a strange wrapped object on his back(think Negi Springfield).

"unfortunately, no. the new professor is male." said the small man.

"Ooh, a man-crush, disgusting." said the boy, cringing.

"Yes, it is even worse that they are the same person."

"You mean that this Lockheart fellow is in love with himself, and that he is going to be teaching us to defend ourselves." said the boy, "what exactly is he teaching? I know you said defense, but that seems a bit vague."

"You are correct. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. Or Defense for short."

"Then we are doomed. If a self loving pansy is teaching us to defend ourselves against the forces of darkness, then you might as well start making the coffins." said the boy.

"That is quite depressing, if accurate." said the man, "well, come on Marc, let us get your things." he finished as he stepped into a shop called _Madam Malkins Robes for All Occasions_.

"So, I'm supposed to get robes and a cloak of all things. Why can't I just use my jacket when it is cold?' Marc asked himself as he was browsing the pre-made robes they had out in the front.

"Hello, how may I help you?" a woman's voice came from behind him. Turning around, Marc saw a comely woman in her mid twenties dressed in robes that, astonishingly, didn't make her look ridiculous.

"Hello, I'm here to get my Hogwarts' uniform." said Marc to the witch.

"Right, then. This way." she said as she lead him in front of a mirror and stood him on a stool.

"So, mugleborn?" she asked as she began to take his measurements, "arms up."

"Yeah," he answered, lifting his arms, "though I found out that I have some magic blood way back." he commented.

"Oh, really, so who were they?" she asked as she started to measure his torso.

"Well, I'm told that I descend from a druidic line. They had quite a strange name too." he said, then chuckled, "well, I guess you could say that my name is strange also."

"What was the name, I might know them." she said as she began to pin the shirt to size.

"I doubt it." said Marc, "the name was Kerbouchard."

"You're right, I've never heard of them." she said as she began to work on his lower body. Strangely, he didn't feel at all embarrassed to have her hands down there. "So, what does that mean. The line is dead?" she asked.

"No, it just hadn't been magical for a long time." said Marc.

"So did they leave anything in Gringotts?" she asked as she began to pin up his pants.

"Yeah, there were quite a few books there, and Professor Flitwick said that th last Druid in the line probably copied his knowledge into books, which is kind of abnormal since they were passed on orally." said Marc.

"Oh, orally? How did they do that?" she said teasingly. Though apparently Marc didn't catch on.

"How else, the teacher told the student until the student could recite it back." said Marc, looking at her. He then caught her expression, "oh, that's what you meant." he said, chuckling some.

"Wow, no blush. I was sure I had gotten you." she said.

"You know, I never got your name." said Marc.

"Oh, I'm Adriana Malkin." she said, "should I be expecting an owl? With a love letter perhaps."

"I don't know, maybe I can add you to the list." said Marc.

"Oh, there is a list." Adriana said suggestively, "and how many ladies are on this list?"

"Oh, you'll be the first, but most certainly not the last, not by far." said Marc.

"You little player, you." she said playfully.

"You have a muggleborn friend or spend some of your time in the muggle world?" he asked.

"Yes, how could you tell?"

"Your terminology is definitely not that of a witch." said Marc, "the society of magical Britain is medieval in many cases, and early renaissance in others. So the way you speak, and some of the terms you use give it away." summarized Marc.

"Okay, I have never had how I act analyzed by an eleven-year-old." she said, slightly stupified.

"Get used to it. We're not all idiots." said Marc.

"Good point. Last year there was this one girl in here who made me think that she might be able ti skip a year or two a school." said Adriana, "she was a muggleborn also. Not sure about the druidic ancestry though."

"I guess she's not as lucky as I am. I mean, for me even thirteen is lucky." said Marc, "I actually consider it my lucky number."

"Now isn't that different." joked Adriana.

"Do you have any other clothing suggestions. I have some gold to spend." said Marc, "or possibly some good book suggestions, I've heard the potions teacher is brutal."

"Yes, I do have a few suggestions on both counts."

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"so Marc, you have your robes, gloves, potion supplies, and telescope." said Flitwick, "all that leaves are your books, wand, and a possible animal."

"Why can't I just bring one of the creatures in the vaults out of stasis?" asked Marc.

"Well, we normally only allow cats, owls, or toads, but there are quite a few students who have other pets." said Flitwick, "in fact, one of my Claws has a raven."

"Funny, a Ravenclaw with a raven." Marc dead panned.

"So long as it isn't too big I think we allow it, also if it isn't too dangerous." finished the Professor.

"Hold on, let me check the inventory that Tornclaw got for me." said Marc as he glanced over some sheets of parchment. "Thank goodness he also put in a brief description of each creature." said Marc as he continued to peruse the list.

"Anything interesting?" asked Flitwick.

"Nothing small enough." said Marc as he continued to search. "Okay, there is nothing small enough alive. Though there might be something in the eggs, let me check those." he said flipping over a page or two.

"I am not so sure of those eggs Marc. I think it is more likely that they are dangerous." said the professor in a worried tone.

"What? There are several possibilities as to what could be in the eggs. One, a reptile, though the eggs of reptiles are more often than not leathery in texture. Two, a bird, and most birds that I know of treat the first creature they see as their parent, so there is a bit of control in that relationship." said Marc ticking off on his fingers, "three, it could be a mammal, though rare, there are a few that lay eggs. Four, an amphibian, though their eggs are normally gel-like. Five, a fish, their eggs are similar to amphibians. Six, an insect, though if the egg is even as large as a chicken's, then the insect will likely grow to be quite large. Seven, an arachnid, similar situation to the insects. Eight, some strange mix between species previously mentioned, those would be interesting to see." finished Marc.

"So far, the only thing I could see being accepted would be a bird, a mammal, or an amphibian. Other than that, people would fear it just because of it's change from normality." said Flitwick.

"So, I'll have to be sort of critical in my judging, correct?" asked Marc.

"That would be for the best." said Flitwick.

"Well, I'll check a bit later. Now, let's get some books." said Marc excitedly.

"I have no doubt that you will be in my house." said Flitwick.

"Yeah, well I don't think I would like any other head of house except maybe you or Professor Sprout."

"Why thank you. Now, let us hurry to Flourish and Blott." said Flitwick.

"Strange name, why would you want blots in your books?" asked Marc.

"No, Blott is one of the owner's name." replied Mr. Munchkin.

"Why do you wizards have such strange names?" said Marc, "and you all seem to choose professions that fit your names."

"I have noticed that. I just hope Mr. Potter doesn't take to growing Cannabis." said Flitwick, grinning from ear to ear.

"Funny stuff, professor." laughed out Marc. "Now, let's get those books." said Marc as he pushed open the door to find the bookstore packed.

"Oh my, what day is it?" asked Flitwick.

"Wednesday the fifth. Why?" said Marc.

"Great, you just might get to meet another of your professors." said Flitwick dejectedly.

"I take it you mean the ponce." said Marc.

"I do not think you should call professors such names, no matter how true."said Flitwick.

"I'll call him professor as soon as he teaches me something useful." stated Marc.

"I think I will accept that promise." said Flitwick.

"Right, now let's find us some books. Anything you think might be helpful to my education and or my integration into the wizarding world, grab it." said Marc, "I'll get the assigned books, you do that." with that, the two split up.

As the two met up after finding their books, they witnessed an altercation between two adults. Two grown men were having a fight at a book signing of a ponce of a man. _What does that say about their tastes._ Thought Marc. As one of the men, an arrogant blonde, got laid out, Flitwick spoke up.

"Never thought I would see Lucius Malfoy get defeated in public, in a fistfight no less."

"So he is some sort of aristocrat or something?" asked Marc.

"I guess you could call him that." shrugged Flitwick, "but I am sure that your first impression of him is true."

"And what would my first impression be?" asked Marc with a raised eyebrow.

"An arrogant, stuck up bastard who has to pay his wife to sleep with him." said Flitwick.

"Wow, that was pretty accurate, except I thought husband, not wife." said Marc.

"I think we are going to spend quite a bit of time together." said Flitwick.

"Why is that, professor?"

"Not only are you bright, but you have a fresh perspective on the world that is most welcome." said Flitwick.

"That and you like my jokes." said Marc, nodding his head knowingly.

"Yes, that too." said Flitwick, chuckling, "now, let's get these books paid for and get out of here." he finished as they finally made it to the counter.

"I agree, thankfully the only place I have to see the ponce's face is on his books. And I think that I am going to blot those out as soon as possible." stated Marc as he payed the man behind the counter for his books.

"It would greatly improve the appearance of the book." agreed Flitwick as they made their way out te door.

"Now, on to the wand. Even if I have a vastly superior spell-casting implement." Marc said as he pat the stave on his back almost affectionately.

"Yes, well I am not sure that the methods of spell casting that are taught would work with your stave." commented Flitwick.

"Good point Prof." said Marc.

"Prof?" questioned the man.

"Short for Professor." answered Marc.

"I like it. Whenever you address me, feel free to use that term." said Flitwick.

"Right." agreed Marc, "so is this the place to get a wand?" pointing to the store in front of them, having read the inscription over the door.

"Yes, Olivander makes some of the best wands in Britain, if he restrains himself to only using the core materials." said Flitwick as they walked in the door.

"Oh, so does he use them for any particular reason, or is it just a preference?" asked Marc.

"Oh, I would normally say that the materials I use are superior to those that others use. But it is also that they are the most easy to find." said a voice from behind the pair of intellectuals, causing Flitwick to jump.

"Oh, so do you just abandon the use of other cores entirely, or is it that most of your customers end up having those cores anyway?" asked Marc as he turned to face the slightly disappointed man.

"Well, I haven't made an alternate core wand in a decade or two, but your second guess was right on the mark. I haven't had anyone since before I stopped making those wands who was matched to a wand with a core other than phoenix tail-feather, dragon heartstring, or unicorn tailhair." finished Olivander.

"Well, how about we begin." suggested Flitwick.

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"Well, that was number three-hundred-and-fourty-seven, what's next?" asked Marc.

"Marc, how about you show him the stave." suggested Flitwick, "Maybe that will give him an idea."

"Good idea, Prof." said Marc as he took the stave off of his back and began to unwind it.

"Oh, and what is this?" asked Olivander as he came from behind the counter with another five wands.

"This is my stave. Professor Flitwick suggested that it might give you some ideas as to what my wand might be like."

"A good suggestion." said Olivander, "just a simple question. What length do you think your wand will be?"

"Thirteen inches." said Marc and Flitwick confidently.

"Oh, why is that?" asked the wandmaker.

"Well, for me, it is because thirteen has always been my lucky number." said Marc.

"For me it was the number of jeweled runes on his stave." said Flitwick.

"Both valid reasons." said Olivander, nodding, "now, may I see the stave?" he asked holding out his hand.

When Marc handed it over, Olivander brought it up close to his face.

"Blood Ebony, named such for the dark red sap. Strange material to use, if a good conductor of magic. Not believed to have any affinity for light or dark magic, even with the name." he said, then looking closely at the gems, "hmm, each of these stones is a single piece, carved to fit both the rune and the stave. Not only that, but the element of magic that each stone is supposed to excel in is accentuated by the rune they are carved into. Whoever made this was a genius." commented Olivander, "this one is a well rounded piece, even if it would be strong in the assisting of bloodmagics."

"So, does it tell you anything about my wand?" asked Marc, fascinated with the whole subject.

"Yes, it does. Your wand will be from a naturally dark wood that is magically neutral. I agree that the length will be thirteen inches, but I still cannot think of a core that might match." said Olivander.

"Do you perhaps have any with a stone core, or perhaps one from a fae being, as I know I have some way back in the family tree." suggested Marc.

"No, no stones for cores. If anything, they would be used as the wand's base material instead of wood." said Olivander, still deep in thought, "but your other idea bears some merit. Let me go get some that match those parameters."

"So, what part of the body do you think my core will end up being, Prof?" asked Marc.

"I think something having to do with the blood." said Flitwick, "like a vein, or the blood itself."

"Good guess." said Marc, agreeing with the Ravenclaw head.

"Yes, I had a similar train of thought."said Olivander from beside Marc, causing Flitwick to jump.

"Mr. Olivander, I think I should tell you that I have never had a knee-jerk reaction to being startled." said Marc, chuckling slightly at both older men. One glaring at the other, who in turn was looking disappointedly at Marc.

"Yes, well, why don't you try this one out." said Olivander, handing him a dark wand.

Upon grabbing it, Marc felt a bit more of a reaction than he did with any of the other wands.

"Close, you got either the wood or the core right." said Marc observationally.

"Right, then try this." said Olivander, handing Marc another wand, looking to be made of the same wood. Taking it, there was a similar feeling to the last one.

"Same. Close but no cigar." said Marc handing it back.

"Well, that does narrow it down as there are only three more wands made of that wood." remarked Olivander.

"Right, next." said Marc. Upon being handed the next, he just shook his head, "no, that's not it. It actually felt a bit less of a match than the other two."

"That is because the other two used blood related cores while that one used several hairs." said Olivander handing him the second to last wand.

"Not this one either, but again, close." said Marc, "well, the moment of truth, is the last wand a match?" Marc said as if he were a game show host.

"Yes, the last wand, thirteen inches, blood ebony, firm, with crystalized blood for the core."said Olivander, he had stopped giving the specifics of each wand after number one-hundred-eighty-two. Taking up the wand, Marc felt a warming, empowering sensation course through him. Out from the wand tip came a myriad of sparks of strangely metallic colors. Golds, silvers, bronze, copper, an iron grey, and a steely blue.

"Well, we finally found my wand." said Marc, "what did the blood for my wand come from?" he asked Olivander.

"I never knew, all I could ever get out of the person who sold it to me was that it was from some Fae species. He said that the species wasn't known to have a name." said Olivander.

"Did he have any characteristics of the species?" asked Marc.

"No, like I said, all he knew was that it was Fae." said Olivander, sighing.

"Well, thank you for your help, sir." said Marc, thanking the elderly wizard. "So, how much do I owe you?" asked Marc.

"Seven Galleons." replied the old wandmaker.

After paying for his wand, Marc and Flitwick went over to Fortescue's to talk about a possible pet/familiar.

"So, you take these,"said Marc as he hands over a few sheets of parchment containing the animals and eggs of the Kerbouchard vault, "while I look through these." said Marc while holding up those from his other vault. "Oh, by the way, when we were talking about this earlier, I was only looking through those." motioning to the parchment in Flitwick's hand.

"Right. Do you want me to mark those that might be acceptable?" he suggested.

"Yeah, that would be nice." said Marc as he began to search his list with a pen in hand.

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"So, Prof. What do you got?" asked Marc.

"Honestly, not much." he said, sighing, "the only live ones small enough would be the snakes. And the only eggs that might be acceptable, like I thought, are birds. But even most of those are a stretch. How about you? You find anything?"

"There are a few birds, but from what it says on them, they are either too big, too aggressive, or too powerful. There are no other live animals small enough. I have only just begun on the eggs though." summarized Marc.

"Well, tell me if you find something." said Flitwick.

"I will." said Marc as he continued to search.

After a few minutes, he came across one that seemed to fit his needs quite well.

"I think I found one. There is an egg of a Yatagarasu, a three-legged crow. Though it doesn't say what sub-species it is." said Marc.

"What are the sub-species?" asked Flitwick.

"Well, there is the Japanese species that is black, said to be messengers of heaven or the ferriers of souls to the afterlife. Then there is the golden-crow species which were worshiped as the sun in some ancient civilizations for their powers over fire. There are two other sub-species, but there is only one more named, and there isn't really a description." said Marc, "those were the blue-crows."

"I think that would be acceptable, does it give you any instructions as to care?" it says that the egg is fully developed and just has to be taken out of stasis before it hatches. As to care, it says that a mix of crushed nuts and meat works best for the chick. For the adolescent it says that they are mostly omnivorous and will eat anything." finished Marc. "It also mentions that it grows to adult size in three months."

"Right, let's go get it." said Flitwick as he finished off his ice-cream.

2019211109151309

"Mom, I'm home." Marc shouted from the foyer.

"So, Marc. How was your day?" asked his mother.

"Great, I learned that I'm related to two magical families through you." said Marc, excitedly.

"Realy, and how closely are we related to our wizard cousins?" asked his mother.

"I' the only magical descendant of both families. One is a druidic lie from Moorish Spain, the other, I think, comes from some Norse blood." continued Marc.

"And why do you think they were nordic?" she asked.

"Well, the last name of their last magical heir was Odinson." said Marc.

"Really, and how did you find these things out?"

"Um, as we were at the counter at the wizarding bank, I asked if they could check for any magic blood in my anscestry. And there was this weird room where they check your family tree. They were able to trace back up to two-hundred generations."said Marc, excited to be able to tell his mother about some of the thing he had seen, "not only that, but it seems I inherited from both families." aid Marc.

"So, what did you inherit?" asked his mother, thinking that it was just some money.

"Everything!" Marc nearly shouted.

"Are you sure it was everything?" asked his mother.

"Yeah, as we were looking through one of the vaults, I sort of unintentionally asked for an inventory. So, the goblins gave me an inventory of both estates. Neither one had any surviving properties, they're just ruins now, but I got the 'entirety of both estates.' as Professor Flitwick put it." said Marc.

"So, anything else I would like to know about?" asked his mother.

"Well, I found out that one of our teachers is a biased git, and that a teacher they hired this year is a self-obsessed ponce. I also got a pet bird." finished Marc, "Professor Flitwick shrunk everything but the egg down so that I could just carry it in my pocket."

"So, your pet bird hasn't hatched yet. What is it, and how long until it hatches?" she asked.

"Well, it is a type of magical crow with three legs, and it is ready to hatch. All I have to do is take it out of stasis." finished Marc.

"Alright, just make sure you take care of it. And make sure you put all of your things up."

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"well, Karasu. We're off to se the wizard." said Marc to his black, three-legged, avian companion.

'The wonderful wizard of oz.' replied Karasu.

" I know that letting you watch '_The Wizard of Oz_' was a good idea." said Marc.

'You know I'm going to be spouting off one-liners all year.' said Karasu, 'especially since half of my time was spent in movie marathons.'

"Well, I wanted a humorous, witty, and intelligent companion." said Marc, "you were born with the last two in spadefuls, but the first was slightly lacking in my opinion."

'Yeah, well who cares for your opinion?' asked the ebon avian.

"You do." answered Marc.

"Alright you two. We're here." said Marc's father, who had agreed to drop him off on the way to work.

"Are you going to see us off, or are you just dropping us off?" asked Marc.

"I'm walking you to the train. I don't have the time to wait until eleven, but I need to know how to get to the right platform for when we pick you up." said the elder of the two Vitrac's.

"Professor Flitwick said that you just walk through one of the barriers." said Marc.

"Yes, well. I'm not sure that is true. . ." said the elder as he pulled into a parking space.

"Dad, you've seen me do some magic. You've seen Karasu do some magic. And you still doubt that they can make it so that you can walk through a wall. Or that maybe the wall is an illusion." said Marc.

"Alright, well, let's go."said Marc's father as he got out of the car.

"Right. Karasu, into the cage for now. I'll let you out in the train, I promise." said Marc to his familiar.

'Okay, but only until we get to a compartment.' conceded Karasu as he hopped into his travel-cage.

After getting his trunk and Karasu's cage onto a trolley, the father-son duo began it's search for the hidden train.

"Marc, as soon as I see you through the barrier, I have to leave. So I trust you to get your things onto the train on your own." said father to son.

"No problem dad. I've been away before, I've carried my own luggage before, and I've boarded a train before, so don't worry." said son to father.

"Right, right." said father, "but can you blame a man?"

"No, but you can blame a father." said son.

"Right." said father, hanging his head.

"Right, I think this is it." said son.

"Right." said father, head still low.

"You know that acting like that won't get you any sympathy old man." said son.

"Right." said father, laughing at both himself and his son.

Unknowingly, both had accidentally walked right through the correct barrier.

'Marc.' said Karasu.

"Yeah, Karasu?" said Marc.

'We're here.' said the bird.

"That we are." said Marc, "alright dad, this is it. Bye, see you sometime."

"Bye Marc, take care of yourself." said father, leaning down to embrace his son. After the hug, Marc's dad hurried off.

'Magic, the final frontier.' said Karasu in a stunningly accurate impersonation of Jean Luc Piquard.


	3. The Marc of Oz

"Right, now that we've got my things into a compartment and locked it in my own special way, let's go fraternize." said Marc.

'But that could get you court-marshaled' said Karasu, 'fraternizing with the enemy, that is a grave offense.'

"Oh shut it Karasu." said Marc to the bird on his right shoulder.

'Alright, fine. I'll stop poking fun.' said the bird.

"Well, looks like I am going to be playing the good Samaritan." said Marc spying a silver-blonde haired girl struggling with her trunk, and being teased for it by the surrounding boys, older boys. As he made his way over, he heard several rude comments about the girl, the only one of which that made any sense was 'loony Lovegood.'

"Excuse me miss, but do you need some help?" Marc asked the girl.

"That would be most appreciated good Kami."said the girl to Marc, giving him a view of her misty-blue eyes, "I would also like to watch as your companion carries them off."

"Well, I don't know about Kami, but he should be able to carry them, cadaver and all in a few more months. Ain't that right Karasu." said Marc. Karasu answering with a loud caw.

"Right. How about we ditch these cadavers-to-be." said Marc, picking up her trunk with his left hand while offering is right arm to the girl.

"Thank you good Kami." she said, placing her arm in his.

As the two left, Marc could already hear the brutes behind them starting the 'idiotic rumor mill.'

As the group approached the compartment Marc had set aside for himself, they found a small group of people congregating around it.

"I swear, I've tried every unlocking charm I know and it still won't open." said a boy in a nasally voice.

"Really, well I'm sure that you did your best, but that unfortunately wasn't enough." said an arrogant girl on the other side of the group. As Marc walked through the group and up to the door, one of the boys said something along the lines of, "don't even bother, it will never open for a mudblood like you."

As Marc reached for the handle, he sneakily kicked the wedge he had rammed under the door out of place and smoothly opened the door, letting the girl he was escorting through first. Stepping through the door himself, he kicked the wedge into the room to make sure that noone noticed it. Calmly shutting the door while smiling slightly at the small, gaping, crowd.

"That was brilliant." said Marc as the last of the dumbfounded crowd skulked off.

"Just a question, good Kami. Why did you help me?" asked the girl.

"How could I not help a cute girl out. Especially since all of those vermin hanging around you needed an example of how to treat a potential mate." said Marc, accidentally slipping into pack-mentality. He had been doing that on and off since his trip to Gringotts. "And may I know the name of my damsel in distress."

"I am Luna Lovegood. And may I ask your name, good Kami?" said Luna.

" I am known as Marc Vitrac. My lovely Lovegood." said Marc, "and this is my good companion Karasu." he said, motioning to the bird now perched on one of the luggage racks.

"It is a pleasure to meet a handsome Yatagarasu such as yourself." she said, curtsying slightly to Karasu.

'I like her Marc. Will she be the first?' asked the bird.

"I don't know Karasu, that possibility is growing by the minute." said Marc to his familiar.

"Will I be the first of what?" asked Luna.

"You can understand him?" asked Marc.

"Of course I can." said Luna, "how else would I know what he had said."

"Just a moment Luna. I need to check something." said Marc as he pulled at a chain hanging down into his shirt. Hanging from the end was the ring that he had received from Signe. Taking it off of the chain, he slid it onto his right ring finger. When the ring slid home, Marc began to feel a tug toward the blonde girl sitting beside him.

"Well, I never thought that I would find another so soon." Marc muttered to himself.

"Another what?" asked Luna.

"Well, that is sort of hard to explain because they don't have a name." said Marc, "but, lets say that both you and I are descendants of a certain, nameless, Fae species."

"Oh, and why are they nameless?" she asked.

"Who knows? Maybe they couldn't decide on a name that they liked." answered Marc.

"So what does that mean for us?" asked Luna.

"Well, we can speak to animals, obviously. But when we awaken our dormant blood, we will be able to change form." said Marc.

"What form is that?" asked the inquisitive Luna.

"All forms, we will be shape-shifters." said Marc, "and as apt a description as that is, I wouldn't like that to be the name of my species."

"I would agree. But you still haven't fully answered my question." said Luna, "what does this mean for us?"

"You mean relationship-wise?" asked Marc, receiving a nod, he sighed, "well, from what I have been told, I will most likely have multiple mates or wives."

"Oh, and who told you this?" she asked.

"A portrait of my ancestor who just happened to be the origin of my Fae blood." summarized Marc.

"Oh, well that explains a bit." said Luna.

"How about we talk about something else, Luna." suggested Marc.

"Sure, what should we talk about?" asked Luna.

"I was sort of hoping that you would suggest something." said Marc, "how about you Karasu, you got any ideas?"

'One, but I don't think you would want to talk about it.' said the avian.

"Oh, what is it?" asked Marc.

'The person that looks like they want in.' said Karasu.

Looking over to the door's glass pane, there was, in fact, a girl standing there. The expression on her face was practically begging to be let in. Walking to the door, Marc opened it.

"May I help you, miss?" he asked.

"Yes, I was hoping that I could sit with you." she said, "I saw how you defended the other girl in there and was hoping that was how you treated everyone? Fairly that is."

"Well, I try to let peoples actions speak for themselves. Miss," Marc left it hanging.

"Larsson, Astrid Larsson at your service." she had silver-blue eyes and long, white blonde hair, and a face that put him in mind of a stereotypical elf.

"I'm not sure that you should use that phrase too often." said Marc, "it could be interpreted to mean something else."

"Like what?" asked Luna, her head tilted cutely to the side. _Okay, why am I thinking of her romantically when I've only just met her?_ Thought Marc.

'Luna, in the muggle world, that phrase has a sexual meaning. Especially when a girl says it.' said Karasu to the clueless girl.

"Really?" she said before turning to Marc, "then I guess that I am at your service, whenever you wish it." she said.

"Okay, did I miss something?" asked Astrid.

"Well, both Luna and I can talk with Karasu." said Marc, beginning his explanation, "and after being informed of the double meaning of what you said, she just offered something that shouldn't happen for a few years yet."

"What did she offer? What did I say?" asked Astrid.

"You offered to give me a blow-job, and so did Luna." said Marc, preparing to defend himself.

"That's really what I said?" she asked.

"Well, I am sure that isn't how you meant it, but that is how it could be taken." said Marc.

"And she actually offered to do that? Whenever you felt like it?" she said, looking incredulous.

"Well, yes, she did. But I probably wont take her up on her offer for a few years." said Marc, "if at all."

"So, when did this conversation get to be about sex?" asked Astrid.

"When you walked in." answered Luna.

"Oh." said Astrid.

"You know, You two look almost like twins." commented Marc.

"Really?" interrupted Luna.

"Yet you act nothing alike." finished Marc.

"So, what now?" said Astrid.

"I take it you are muggle born. Or at least have a muggle parent." said Marc.

"The second, my dad is the non-magical one." replied Astrid. "Why do you ask?"

"Just hoping you might know some good one-liners from the movies you've seen." said Marc, "I'm trying to expand Karasu's resources when it comes to humor."

"Oh, well what movies has he seen already?" asked Astrid.

"Well, I tried to start out with movies containing magic so that he could make fun of the purebloods."

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As the children were getting off of the train, a group of three first years linked arms and began to skip off toward a man shouting 'Firs' years, this way, firs' years follow me' and things like that. Making their way to the front of the first years assembled in front of the giant of a man.

"'Right, firs' years come this way, watch yer step." said the man as he turned down a slightly darkened path. Following the man, the threesome continuing to skip, began to sing in unison.

"We're off to se the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz. Because, because, because, becaaaaauuuuse, because of the wonderful things he does." at this point there was a mysterious noise that seemed to go along with the tune, "we're off to se the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz." finished the trio as they continued to skip after the giant man. Behind them, the muggle born and half-blood children were laughing their heads off, while the pureblood children were looking at the three as if they were crazy.

"Right, you should be gettin' yer firs' view a' Hogwarts in a momen'" said the giant.

"Ooh, look tin-girl, it's Oz" said the boy of the trio to the girl on his left.

"Why, you're right strawman." said 'tin-girl.'

"Maybe now I can get a brain." said 'strawman.'

"A heart." said tin-girl sing-song-like.

"The noive." said the girl on the right with a strange accent.

"It's alright cowardly lioness, one day you'll be queen of the forest." said strawman.

"You think?" asked 'cowardly lioness.'

"No, I don't think at all." said strawman, "remember, no brain." he said, rapping a knuckle against the side of his head.

"Right, now we just have to cross this sea of poppies." said tin-girl, motioning to the lake in front of them.

"'right you three, quit yer playin' 'round." said the giant man. Then, motioning to the fleet of boats on the shore, "right, climb in. No more than four to a boat." instructed the giant.

Naturally, the trio climbed into the same boat. And yet again naturally, no one joined them.

As the fleet of boats approached the cliff upon which the castle stood, the giant spoke again.

"Watch yer heads." he said as he pushed aside some vines that blocked their view of a cave.

Climbing out of the boats and onto the stone quay, the group of first years followed the giant up a flight of stone steps. As they reached the top, water balloons were being lobbed at them. One of the trio saw the lobber and pointed,

"Look, the wicked witch of the west sent her flying monkeys." shouted strawman.

"Quick, man your battle stations." shouted tin-girl. She said as she caught one of the balloons and lobbed it back at the floating 'thing.'

"Red alert, red alert, bogey sighted." said strawman, seeming to change personalities, "take 'em down Maverick, Goose."

"Roger that, Maverick out." said tin-girl.

"Roger, Goose out." said cowardly lioness.

"I got a need," said tin-girl, "a need for speed.."

"Peeves." said an authoritative voice from up ahead. Upon hearing the voice, 'peeves' threw the remaining balloons into the air and sped off through the air, cackling all the way.

"Thank you Hagrid, I'll take it from here." came the voice again. Tracking it to its source, the first years saw a woman with her hair in a severe bun. "If you children will follow me, single file." she said before turning and walking off, expecting her orders to be followed. And they were, with the Trio at the head of the line. Arriving in the Great Hall, the first years began to look around excitedly, well, all except for the Trio. They were looking a the worn hat sitting on the stool. After being lined up, the hat started to sing. Marc didn't pay any attention to the song, he was too busy planning his next joke.

After the song, the strict looking woman, who Marc guessed was McGonagall, started calling off names. The kid whose name was called would walk up to the stool, put the hat on, and the hat would call out the house. When Astrid was called up, she was placed into Ravenclaw, as was Luna, who was called up just after her. After some time, with several other people being sorted, Marc's name was called. Walking up, he placed the hat on his head.

_Hmm, what an interesting mind. _Said a voice in Marc's head.

_Would you mind shouting out something strange?_ Asked Marc.

_I would love to. Oh, you want me to pretend to be Oz don't you? Oh this aught to be fun._ Said the hat, before opening its 'mouth' and shouting.

"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain." this got all of those with muggle experience laughing.

_That was fun, do come and visit me some time. You have a delightful mind._ Said the Sorting Hat.

_Sure, where do you spend most of your time?_ Asked Marc.

_In the headmaster's office. Now, let's get you sorted into_"Ravenclaw!" shouted the hat.

Taking the hat off of his head, Marc went over and sat between Astrid and Luna.

"I can't believe you did that, Marc." said Astrid, "it was brilliant, and funny, but crazy."

"Yeah, well we've got a munchkin for a head of house." said Marc, indicating Flitwick with his head.

"Hah, he does look like a munchkin." agreed Astrid as the last person was sorted.

"Now, let the feast, begin."said the tall, old, merlin-esque man at the head-table. With that, food appeared on the tables in great quantity.

"Alright ladies, let's eat." said Marc to his female companions.

As the Trio were eating, Marc was being congratulated by several muggleborn students in the older years for his humorous reference.


End file.
